


unfinished business

by knightspur



Series: Kinktober 2017 [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 16:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12436560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: “I really am going to kill you,” Minghao says, leaning his head back on Jun’s shoulder. Jun chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Minghao’s mouth.“I’ll look forward to it,” he says. Minghao rolls his eyes, turning so he’s facing Jun properly. There’s a delighted twinkle in Jun’s eyes, the kind he only gets when he knows he’s got Minghao exactly where he wants him.





	unfinished business

“I swear I’m going to kill you,” Minghao says, his voice low and dark. It’s a useless threat, being that he’s got his hands pressed to the wall of their dressing room, the bandanna from his encore outfit wrapped twice around his wrists and tied in a messy knot.

He’s not exactly in a great position to be standing up for himself. Jun laughs, his breath warm against the back of Minghao’s neck, pressed as close as he can get. “Are you telling me you’re not having fun?”

“I’m telling you I’m going to _kill_ you,” Minghao repeats, though his words break around a sharp little gasp. He can feel the way Jun’s grin stretches wider even without lifting his head to look in the mirror. He has one hand tucked into the front of Minghao’s slacks, thumb sliding over the head of his cock.

“I’m not too worried about that,” he says, pressing a small kiss to the back of Minghao’s neck. There’s a limit to how much they can actually do at the moment, since Minghao already has his makeup finished and there’s clips holding Jun’s hair carefully in place. The hand he’s not using to relentlessly tease Minghao is against the wall, trapping him in place.

Minghao opens his mouth to say something in return, at least to make it seem like he might not be devolving into an entire mess but in truth he’s having a hard time forming a thought at all.

This is not the first time today he’s had his hand down Minghao’s pants, among other things. The problem is that none of those times have resulted anything more than Minghao biting down on a growing sense of frustration. He’s pretty sure by this point that it’s possible that Jun is never going to let him get off again.

Jun’s wrist twists expertly as he strokes over Minghao’s cock. Minghao bites down on the inside of his cheek, doing his best to keep from making a sound. 

It’s a game and more than anything Minghao hates to lose.

But it’s hard to keep that in mind with the gentle scrape of Jun’s teeth on the nape of his neck and the way his thighs are shaking. It’d be a little embarrassing, maybe, to be feeling a tight spring already starting to coil up in his stomach from Jun jerking him off. But he woke up to Jun sneaking his way into bed with him and since then it’s been a long day of teasing every time Jun had a chance to get his hands on Minghao.

So, when Minghao’s stomach tightens, he struggles to keep from making a sound, trying not to give himself away. He pushes his hips forward into Jun’s hand, eyes fluttering shut as he does his best to fuck into the tight circle of Jun’s fingers.

Jun laughs, pulling his hand away before Minghao gets the chance to tip himself over the edge, dropping his hand to grip Minghao’s hip and keep him still. “Ah ah, none of that.”

“Fuck,” Minghao spits out, squeezing his eyes shut more tightly. He forgets about the bandanna wrapped around his wrists, jerking against them with a whine that sounds pathetic to his own ears. He’s so close he can feel the way all the pent up lust bleeds into his bones. He lifts his arms up, pulling the knot apart with his teeth. He’s not sure if he wants to throttle Jun or give in and beg for Jun to just finish him off already.

“No time,” Jun reminds him, his voice bright and cheerful as ever. He strokes his fingers over Minghao’s chest and even the silky fabric of his shirt feels like too much at the moment. “Hip hop set is almost done.”

“I really am going to kill you,” Minghao says, leaning his head back on Jun’s shoulder. Jun chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Minghao’s mouth.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he says. Minghao rolls his eyes, turning so he’s facing Jun properly. There’s a delighted twinkle in Jun’s eyes, the kind he only gets when he knows he’s got Minghao exactly where he wants him.

Minghao scowls, fixing his pants and shouldering his way past Jun and out of the dressing room, glad that at least there’s not anyone lurking outside to join Jun in enjoying his suffering.

Jun laughs, following him out.

**{* * *}**

Jun manages to corner him two more times before the concert even ends and Minghao is ready to scream at the next person who talks to him.

Which means he spends the ride back to their hotel curled up in the furthest possible corner of their van, headphones in his ears. Unfortunately, he also has Jun sitting next to him, one hand on his thigh. It’s not really a suggestive gesture on its own, just meant to be familiar and comforting. Except that Jun has spent the last ten hours torturing him and Minghao is ready to explode.

He doesn’t even notice the fact that he’s bouncing his leg up and down impatiently, his attention fixed out the window rather than looking at the little smile he knows is on Jun’s face. All he wants to do is stomp up to his room and jerk off in the shower.

It’s not a real option, there’s no way Jun would let him get away with it, but that’s what Minghao _wants_ to do. He keeps his headphones in when he finally climbs out of the van, though his music is low enough that he catches a bit of Soonyoung asking Jun what’s wrong with him.

Minghao doesn’t wait around to hear what kind of creative answer that question is going to get. He tucks his hands into his pockets, choosing to slink he way inside instead. There’s no point in waiting around outside, since no doubt Jun is going to make him wait anyway.

So, he winds up lying in bed for the next twenty minutes, messing with his phone while Chan takes a shower. Even the expensive hotel sheets against his bare arms feel like too much stimulation and Minghao wiggles around with a frown on his face, trying his best to get comfortable.

Chan steps out of the shower, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his shirt, something that Jeonghan always scolds him for. He raises an eyebrow at Minghao, laughing a little. “Are you itchy or something hyung?”

“Something,” Minghao says, sitting up and shaking his head. “Dry your hair, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Don’t you start too,” Chan says, his shoulders slumping as he whines. “It’s fine! I’m not gonna get sick.”

“Yes you are,” Minghao says, a little grin on his face. Chan puffs his cheeks out in a pout, ducking back into the bathroom to grab his towel once again. There’s a soft series of knocks on the door and Minghao stands up with a roll of his eyes, pulling the door open and greeting Jun with a glare and an annoyed huff. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jun says, a grin on his face. Minghao isn’t sure if he wants to curse him out or kiss him, but he doesn’t really want to do either with Chan still hanging around. Jun takes a step forward and Minghao swings the door shut, taking a quick step out of his reach and giving the bathroom door a glance. Jun looks over, his smile stretching a little bigger.

“Hi Channie,” he says, throwing himself on Minghao’s bed, arms stretched over his head like he’s just there to take up space and watch TV with the two of them. Minghao is seconds away from throwing himself out the window, the frustrated bubble in his stomach threatening to burst.

Chan emerges from the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulders now, waving at Jun. “Hi, hyung.”

He pauses in the middle of the room, looking at Minghao standing by the door still with a glare on his face, then at Jun stretched out on the bed before wrinkling his nose at the both of them. “I’m gonna go hang out with Vernon-hyung.”

Jun laughs, curling his legs toward his chest and Minghao sighs, shaking his head at the both of them. “I hate both of you.”

“Sure thing, hyung,” Chan says, tucking the key to the room and his phone both in his pocket with a roll of his eyes. Jun continues laughing to himself, even as Chan lets himself out. Minghao stays where he is, leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

Jun’s laughter fades out as he looks up at Minghao, still stretched out on the bed, a wide smile on his face. “Do you wanna come take a nap with me, Xiao Hao?”

“I _want_ to suffocate you with a pillow,” Minghao says, biting the words out between his teeth. Jun raises one of his eyebrows, sitting up and pushing himself off the bed, walking over to where Minghao is still leaning on the wall. Minghao doesn’t move, just tilts his head back to glare at Jun more properly. Jun rolls his eyes, uncrossing Minghao’s arms for him, hand coming to rest on his hip.

“Are you gonna be grumpy at me all night?” Jun asks, though he’s more focused on kissing a line down the side of Minghao’s neck, pushing his hands back against the wall. Minghao grunts in the back of his throat, pushing against the strong grip of Jun’s hands on his wrists. There’s no real effort behind it— he’s not actually trying to accomplish anything other than fighting back for the sake of it, just to annoy Jun as much as he’s annoyed himself.

It doesn’t work— Jun just laughs quietly against the side of his neck, nipping the sensitive juncture of his shoulder. Minghao feels like he’s seconds from exploding outward, tilting his head a little to the side without thinking about it. He grits his teeth, sucking in a deep breath when Jun’s fingers slide under the loose bottom of his shirt, stroking over the bare skin of his hip.

“I swear I’ll go find someone else,” Minghao says, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. Jun laughs into the skin of his shoulder, biting down on the edge of his collarbone. Minghao’s whole body shivers, as much as he tries to stop it, his body jerking toward Jun’s.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice scraping over Minghao’s skin, and he isn’t sure if the amusement in Jun’s voice or the way he feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin is the worse thing but he tries to pull his hands free of Jun's tight grasp, to grab at Jun and finally get him to do something. Jun’s hands tighten further though, shaking his head and nipping at the edge of his jaw. “Keep them there.”

Minghao huffs, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. He’d like to ignore the quietly whispered order just as much as he’d like to shove Jun off of him and finish himself off— he doesn’t do either. Jun lets go of his wrists slowly and he seems pleased when Minghao doesn’t move, curling his fingers into fists. Jun slides both hands under his shirt, the blunt edges of his nails scraping over Minghao’s stomach and dragging them up toward his chest. Minghao squeezes his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek to try and keep from making a sound.

The effort only lasts until Jun digs the blunt edge of his nail into one of Minghao’s nipples, making him hiss. He pushes his hips forward without thinking, Jun’s thigh caught between his legs, giving him something to grind himself against. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to see that Jun is grinning at him, but it doesn’t stop him from rutting his hips against Jun’s thigh like he’s a horny teenager all over again. 

He knows exactly what Jun is looking for— the moment that Minghao finally gives in to his frustration and begs for Jun to fuck him, which is starting to become a more and more tempting option. He manages to strangle off another noise in his throat, opening his eyes when Jun pulls his leg away.

“Hyung,” he says, his voice rising into a whine. He bites down on his lip to try to keep himself from saying anything else. It feels like his chest is heaving as hard as it is after practice and Jun is still looking pleased and unaffected by the whole thing. Minghao swallows hard, digging his nails hard into his palms. “Fuck. Seriously, I can’t—”

“Arms up,” Jun says, tapping Minghao’s side and pulling his shirt off when he lifts his arms, hands still in tight fists. Jun drops it to the side, kissing Minghao once the fabric is out of the way. His hands slide up Minghao’s chest once again, pinching one of his nipples. He bites down on Minghao’s lower lip, and this time Minghao can’t stop himself from groaning in response. Jun’s hand smooths down his side, fingers fiddling with the button of his pants.

“Are you gonna keep being this stubborn, baby?” Jun says, one hand keeping Minghao’s hips from jutting forward into his hand. Minghao grits his teeth, just shaking his head when the heel of Jun’s hand drags over his cock. Even with his shirt off, standing with his back pressed against the cool wall, it feels like Minghao’s skin is superheated. He’s never let Jun screw around with him this long and he’s not sure he’s not going to combust on the spot from pure lust and frustration.

He doesn’t realize his legs are shaking, pressing into the slight pressure of Jun’s palm, until Jun’s hand tightens on his hip in an effort to hold him steady. “Alright, bed at least.”

Jun steps away, his hands still there to carefully hold Minghao up (and not at all to squeeze at his ass when he turns around). Minghao grunts as he falls onto the bed, his back arching off the sheets as soon as he hits them, whining sharply. Jun pauses, pulling his own shirt off before kneeling on the bed between Minghao’s legs. He leans over, pulling the button of Minghao’s jeans open.

Minghao does his best not to squirm his way off the bed, kicking his jeans off and biting back a yelp when Jun’s hand cups around his cock for at least the fifth time since he woke up that morning. It feels like his whole body ignites like a struck match, squeezing his eyes shut, whimpering as Jun’s hand works over his cock through his boxers. He can feel his voice trying to rise up in his throat, hovering on the edge of giving in and saying whatever it is Jun wants to hear from him. But he digs his nails into the sheets, scrabbling a little to find a proper grip, clawing himself back from the edge of desperation.

“I'll let you have it if you ask,” Jun says, his voice honey sweet and tempting. But he doesn't just want Minghao to ask, he wants Minghao to beg and there's still enough determination, stubbornness, mixed in with the arousal heating his bones white hot. Jun dips his head, bringing his lips closer to Minghao’s ear. “Just tell me what you want.”

Minghao shakes his head, arching toward the warmth of Jun's bare chest without a thought. His teeth are digging so hard into his lower lip that there's a metallic taste in his mouth and when Jun's fingers hook into the elastic waist of his boxers he nearly knocks the both of them over with the forward surge of his body.

“You're impossible,” Jun says and he sounds so fond that Minghao’s resolve crumbles a little further. He sometimes hates how weak he can be to just the sound of Jun's voice, the way it feels like each individual word sinks into his skin to add to the burning in the pit of his stomach. Jun’s fingers feel almost cold against his skin, stroking the bare insides of his thighs, along the crease of his leg, up to his waist, avoiding his flushed, aching cock.

“Jun…” he says, voice shaking as he grits his teeth around the name. He twitches toward every slight touch, eyes shut tight. They snap open again when he feels the weight of Jun's body against his pull away, looking up with a frustrated sound when Jun sits back on his heels. He can see the bulge of Jun's cock in his jeans, which would be gratifying if he thought Jun were nearly as frustrated as he is.

The look on Jun's face reminds Minghao of how he looks on stage, his gaze heavy and intense. It makes Minghao squirm, aware that he's spread out flushed and naked, sweat starting to stick his bangs to his forehead. The corners of Jun's lips are lifted, leaning forward to plant his mouth along the inside of Minghao’s thigh, nipping at his skin not quite hard enough to leave marks behind. Minghao whines, his voice strained, tipping his chin toward the ceiling like that will somehow erase the pressure of Jun's eyes on him. 

It doesn't instead it just leaves Minghao unprepared for Jun's wet mouth closing over the head of his cock. He bucks his hips up hard in surprise, struggling against the restraint of Jun's hands on him. The sudden slick heat is almost enough to drive Minghao over the edge on its own, sparks fizzling at the corners of his vision. He shakes his head, reaching to grip Jun's dark hair in a desperate effort to keep him there. 

Jun doesn't pull away, taking the rest of Minghao’s cock in his mouth at a painfully slow pace. By the time the head of it presses the back of his throat, Minghao’s chest is heaving pathetically around each breath, his body pulled taut as a crossbow. He makes a few more futile attempts at thrusting into Jun's mouth, almost screaming in frustration when Jun pulls away again. 

“Please,” Minghao says, far past coherent thought at this point, his fingers still twisted I'm Jun's hair. “Please, Jun. Need to come so bad. I'm going crazy… fuck, please.”

Jun grins and Minghao can't even hate himself for begging when Jun returns his mouth to swallowing down his cock. His fingers relax around Minghao’s bony hips, helping him thrust into Jun's throat with some sense of rhythm rather than giving into the white hot demand in his stomach. It's no surprise that Minghao’s composure totally unravels, gripping so tightly onto Jun's hair that it must hurt. He can feel his lips moving, sound rattling out of his throat, but he isn't really aware of the way he repeats _please, Junnie, so close, please_. 

However, Jun seems plenty aware of it because he keeps teasing his tongue over Minghao’s cock, tracing the ridge of the head and hollowing his cheeks to pull suction over the full length as Minghao keeps thrusting into his throat. Whatever control he did have is utterly lost and all Minghao is really aware of is the sound of his own pounding heart in his ears and the sweet relief of Jun's lips on him as he comes. 

The feeling is like electricity sizzling through all of his limbs and by the time he's finished pumping thick streams of come over Jun's tongue he can't feel the tips of his fingers. Jun pulls his mouth away slowly, licking his lips and propping his chin on Minghao’s thigh, looking at him with a smile.

“Feel better now, Hao Hao?” He asks, smiling. Minghao is too tired, too drained from very possibly having his soul sucked out his dick to be mad at the smug tone of Jun's wrecked voice. He throws a pillow at him, nodding weakly. Jun’s smile is soft, leaning up to press a slow kiss to Minghao’s parted lips. “You did so good.”

“I hate you,” Minghao says, still struggling to catch his breath, no real bite to his words. Jun laughs, rolling off the side of the bed.

“Even if I draw you a bath?” He asks, his smile getting wider when Minghao purses his lips to think it over.

“Maybe,” he says, a long moment later, making Jun laugh. “You might as well try it.”

Jun laughs, vanishing into the bathroom and Minghao shuts his eyes for a moment, listening to the tub fill up. He’ll probably be woken up in a few minutes to Jun dragging him off to the bath, and the thought makes him smile.


End file.
